The Forensic Center

Center for Forensic Psychiatry

I wrote the Prosecutor and told her that Jessica was a prostitute.  Also, in that letter I told her that she would have problems if those two men that are doing LIFE found out she was a prostitute.  The next time I went to court, I was ordered to the Forensic Center for a psychiatric exam.  This would determine if I was mentally ill or not.  What they discovered is that there was a question and I needed to go to find out if I was incompetent.  I, of course, rejected that assumption and asked for a second opinion.  Later, I discovered that they are all in this thing together.  Nobody will go against nobody else.   The Police, Oakland County Deputies, Parole, Probation, Community Service (Mental Health) and Bails Bondsmen.  Everyone must be on the same page if this racket is supposed to work.  That includes the people at the Forensic Center and the psychiatrist and psychologist who put you there.  The Forensic Center is a State of Michigan ran institution.

In this case, I would have to depend of the support of a Mental Health worker, and whoever they were, they were not going to take my side.  So, when I woke up one morning and Ashmead told me that I was leaving them for good, I heard several times that it was for the best.  Getting a second-opinion,  would just postpone the inevitable.  The reason why Ashmead told me that I was leaving them for good, was partially wishful thinking and part the truth.  Most women who go to the Forensic Center are actually getting set-up for a "Not Guilty by Reason of Insanity" plea.  When I describe this place and what it looks like and the things you can do, you will understand that assumption, but I am not the norm.  I am not a person who is impressed by simple things and I don't see what other women see in having men.  I didn't say a man...I said men.

The reason they gave for me leaving and not having my "independent evaluation" is that my lawyer was ill.  I sat with my new psychiatrist, an intern, and cried.  I had just been institutionalized, because I had revealed that a woman had put two men in prison unfairly, for LIFE.  After my cry, I sat in a lush waiting room.  It had plush furniture with a big screen color television.  Two men in uniforms walked me down a hall that let out into Main Street.  It was supposed to look like the Main Street in Ann Arbor and it did.  It was covered in red brick and decorated with silk flowers that rested in planters in a sky high ceiling.  Windows allowed the sun to beam down in the main seating area and I thought I had walked onto a college campus.

To my left was a gym with an arena sized court, without the bleachers.  In front of me was a Central Security desk, and beyond that a hall of classrooms.  A little to the right was a room with three vendor machines and two pop machines.  Each classroom had a flag outside the door that told what class was meeting.  We turned right and in the middle of this hall to your left were two old-fashion phone booths, the beauty and barber shop had a real barber's pole hanging on the door and it was clean.  It was so clean you thought you were in a real hospital.

This hospital was built in 2003, and the patients moved there in 2004.  It has been there for a little over 10 years and it is gorgeous.  While Amy and I drove there that day she was smiling telling me that in a couple of weeks I could go out on Main Street.  I looked at her strange, because I didn't want to go there, let alone hang out on Main Street.  I refused to be open to this place.  As I walked the halls, I started to change my mind.  But remember what you always heard about things that are beautiful on the outside.  What they are could hold a whole new meaning and that's what the Forensic Center is.  It's an optical allusion.  It tricks your mind into thinking that you've arrived at a better place.

I think that Rae Lee Chabot thought that if she could change my scenery.  Take away the drab and cold walls of OCJ and put me into a place that is aesthetically better looking, I would submit and give in to their sexual demands.  I believe that she thought that I was uppity and would change my mind when I discovered what this place could offer me.  But I had the same opportunities at the jail, except I could order all the Victoria's Secret merchandise and gym shoes I wanted; if I cooperated. You can get your hair done for free, your teeth fixed, glasses and wear your own clothes.  They actually give you jeans, sweat suits and t-shirts, underwear and tennis shoes. I would tell the women over and over again, "I have all that mess at home.  All you gotta do is get a job and you can buy all the clothes you want.  That's where I'm trying to get back to!  I got Coach, Dooney and Burke and K-Swiss at home."

The people could be so much better than they are to you.  They could not try to make-up mental illnesses where there isn't one and put stuff in your food that gives you nightmares and makes you see things.  The stuff with Amy and Sarah really made me mad.  They let those two murderers run the whole show.  I believe, because the people running that joint are insane themselves.  Just listen to me over the next few days and you'll know what I mean.  This place is a trip...Beauty is only skin deep!